Say Something
by MissjudyK
Summary: This story follows Adam through lessons he learned in matters of the heart. In each of the six short sections, he struggles with emotions and thoughts that leave him speechless, prompting others to ask what he's thinking. We all think of Adam Cartwright as suave and sophisticated when it came to women, but this story proves that even Adam has trouble understanding us.


**One**

 **Betrayal**

Adam's impatience spurred him to pace the sheltered area formed by the boulders around him. He'd asked Becka Miller to meet him in the foothills behind town to have a "talk," expecting that she'd arrive shortly after he did, and his surety over what he planned to say to her was waning as his wait increased. He reached into his pocket to make sure the necklace he'd made for her was still there, and was relieved to feel the velvety ribbon slip through his fingers.

He and Becka had been "friends," since the Millers had moved into the area and started farming a few years ago. But that friendship had taken an unexpected turn a couple of weeks back, and he wanted to talk to her about it. The town's unofficial anniversary celebration today had provided the first opportunity to see her since then.

The festivities marked four years since the Cass family had taken over the trading post in the territory. They'd transformed it into a general store around the time that Ben had brought Marie back from his final fur sale in New Orleans and had started ranching instead of trapping. Other settlers had stayed put once there was a hint of prosperity in the wind, and there were now enough people in the small community to support the store as well as a boarding house, livery stable, and saloon.

Adam checked the path leading from town and sighed in frustration at seeing it still empty. He sat on a rock, and continued to think about those earlier days when the Cartwrights had gotten to know their first neighbors. The Cartwrights and Millers had often met up when they'd gone to town, and since Adam and Becka had been the oldest, they'd watched out for their brothers and sisters while their parents talked and got supplies.

He'd always thought Becka was nice. But she was also the only girl near his age he'd ever known, so he had no comparison. She was good with kids, demonstrating patience with the strong personalities of Hoss and Joe, and her four younger sisters. She'd always thought up the games they'd played. Hoss and Little Joe could go for hours playing tag, hide-and-seek, or watching bugs, but girls always wanted rules…and winners, and that's where Becka excelled. Adam's role had been to keep order and put Becka's ideas into a workable plan.

He and Becka had joined in the activities when they were younger, but had taken to keeping watch from a distance when they'd become teens. Their talks had been interesting…at first. But Adam had soon discovered that aside from sharing stories about their families and commiserating over the never-ending work in a family business, they had no common interests. He was studying with a professor from Harvard to prepare for college, while her favorite reading material was a _Tiffany Blue Book_ she'd brought with her from the East. She'd hold the catalogue like a sacred manuscript, showing him a drawing of an "exquisite piece of jewelry," while describing the gems it held and detailing where she'd wear it. But if he brought up a subject that he was studying or a book he'd read, she'd roll her eyes and change the subject.

He had never considered Becka more than a friend, because his mind and heart were filled with loftier goals; he had his eye on a prize in Boston. His dream of going East to college had started the day he'd read an article about the number of prestigious universities in the city where he'd been born. The goal had remained a dream for years because of one insurmountable problem: his lack of a formal education. That article had said that incoming students had to be studied in Latin and Greek, and proficient in advanced math, English, and history. It had noted, in a polite way, that those lacking such qualifications need not apply.

Adam had suspected he could learn these things; it was the opportunity to learn them that had been absent. His first teacher had been his father, but while his pa was smart, he had little knowledge of most of the required subjects. Adam had studied with a primary teacher who'd taken care of him and Hoss while his father had been in New Orleans. Her greatest gift had been leaving her secondary textbooks with him when she'd headed back home to Illinois. He and Marie had worked through those books after she'd come home with his father. He'd enjoyed those hours working together, and had come to respect her intelligence. But she couldn't teach him what she didn't know either.

His "dream" had become a possibility two years ago when he'd found a professor from Harvard doing wildflower classification on their property. Adam had convinced Dr. Metz to be his tutor. It had taken more convincing to get his father to agree, but Ben had finally invited Professor Metz to stay with them through the winters, and work with his son. The seasoned educator had recently declared that his protégé would be ready for anything Boston could throw his way after another year of rigorous study.

Adam was convinced that meeting Dr. Metz was providential—nearly miraculous—so he wasn't about to waste the gift by losing his focus. But Becka had done something that had thrown his mind into a whirlwind."

The Cartwrights had joined the Miller's to celebrate Becka's birthday. Everything had seemed normal until Becka had taken his hand and led him toward the barn to "Show him something."

He reviewed the scene in his mind as he continued to wait.

 _Becka climbed the ladder to the loft, calling down for him to follow. She let herself fall back into the soft pile of hay and then reached up for his hand, tugging him down next to her. He wondered if there might be a litter of kittens hiding somewhere, but when he didn't hear any mewing, he was left with a growing sense of puzzlement._

" _What did you want me to see?" he asked. "Show me so we can get back before the game the kids are playing becomes the usual war of wills."_

" _They'll be fine for a few minutes," she said as she winked and gave him a sly smile. "I wanted to show you this…"_

 _His eyes flew open in surprise when Becka edged nearer and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. He'd pulled away in surprise._

" _What's the matter?" she pouted._

" _Uh…nothing's the matter…I just wasn't expecting…that." His swirling thoughts left him thinking that the kiss had made him feel pretty doggoned good. "We can try that again; this time I'll be ready." He took her shoulders, drawing her near and kissed her softly. The contact sent warmth throughout his body, and he instinctively deepened the kiss. He was breathing fast when he pulled back the second time, and went back in quickly for another round._

 _Becka wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer until there was no space between their bodies. The warmth turned into heat until reason stuck an icy tentacle into his brain, making him pull away again._

" _Now what's wrong?" Her voice was strained and edgy._

" _I'm not sure why we're doing this," he answered honestly. "We're friends Becka. This is a big step away from friendship."_

 _She pulled her hair back behind her shoulder. "You're a man, and I'm a woman. It was bound to happen."_

" _I won't be 15 for a month, and you turned 14 today, so we're not quite a 'man and woman'." He chuckled while continuing to tamp the fire that had driven him._

" _That's pretty old in some places, Adam," she teased, as she leaned in and kissed him again."_

Adam began breathing faster as he relived what had happened next.

" _Have you noticed how different I'm looking these days?" she asked._

" _I think you look very nice, but I'm not sure what you mean by different."_

" _I've become a woman."_

Her comment had made him take a good look at her. The baggy, little-girl dresses had been replaced by a form fitting one that accentuated her small waist and…other things that hadn't been there when he'd seen her before the winter months had kept the families apart. She'd always been pretty, but now her face was more delicate; her lips fuller; cheeks higher…all pushing her towards beauty.

 _She stood and twirled around with her hands on her hips, sending her skirt and hair whirling around her. Adam began to experience something he'd only felt in his dreams. His cheeks blazed, but she hadn't seemed to notice as she'd sat next to him again._

 _She took his hands then, and directed them to where hers had been resting around her waist. "See how thin and shapely I've become?" she said as she guided his hands up her bodice until they cupped her breasts._

 _His body began to react to the intimacy, and he yanked his hands away. "This isn't right," he whispered. His words dissolved in a cloud of turmoil as he climbed down the ladder and left the barn._

That brief interlude had muddled his dreams; bringing upheaval to plans that had seemed perfectly sound. He'd wondered if this was love. And if it was, then how could he leave her behind when he left for school. His thinking had given him a headache, but he'd finally discerned that his physical reactions to her advances were not love. He truly had no feelings for Becka, and to push this any further for the pleasurable reactions it might bring just spelled trouble.

Something else had kept his mind in turmoil. The entire episode in the barn had seemed too sudden and forced. Becka had never flirted or given him any indication of her changing feelings, yet she'd pushed him to kiss her and touch her in ways that were improper. He thought he should talk to his father about it, but he couldn't let his plans be rerouted, even if the detour was pretty and had soft…lips.

He decided he would tell Becka he could remain her friend but nothing more. He didn't want to be unkind, and decided to give her something with a meaning he could share with her. Shortly after they'd arrived here, he'd found a creek-weathered stone that had been shaped into a heart by the water's action over thousands of years. He'd polished it to a high gloss, and snuck ribbon from Marie's sewing basket that he'd woven into a delicate sling to hold the stone, leaving strings long enough to tie around her neck. He'd been pleased with how it had turned out, and had hoped she'd like it.

Now as he waited for her to show up, he wondered if he'd been a fool to put any thought or effort into the situation. He'd waited until after lunch before he'd gone to her and said, "I have something for you."

"What is it?" she'd asked abruptly, but then she'd smiled and said she liked getting gifts.

"Not here." He'd tipped his head, indicating a place up in the hills. "Let's go where we can talk privately."

She'd given him a surly look, but said, "You go on ahead. I'll come as soon as I can."

He'd been waiting since then, and had decided to leave when he heard footsteps heading his way.

Abigail Jones had awakened feeling hot, sticky and irritable with no interest in attending the town festivities taking place later. But at breakfast, her mother had reminded her that if she wanted her teaching business to grow, she would have to mingle with the parents who might entrust their children to her.

She'd come back to her room and curled up on the bed, letting her mind revisit the events that had brought her here…

Abigail and her mother had ended up in Cass's Crossing** when their trek to the California gold fields had gone awry last fall. Her father had been an assayer and mineralogist in Ohio who'd been offered a remarkable salary to come West, and the three members of the Jones family had decided to head toward a new life. The unfortunate truth had been that Mr. Jones had led an easy and sedentary life that hadn't prepared him for the rigors of pioneer travel. He hadn't lost his humor or intention to finish the trip, but the illnesses and injuries he'd experienced along the way had taken their toll, and he'd died just as the group had prepared to cross the Sierras.

Abigail's mother could handle the wagon on flat terrain, but there was no one to help her navigate the difficult mountain passage. The leader of their caravan had told the Jones women that allowing them to continue would slow the group and put everyone at risk with winter coming in the high country. He'd brought them here in hopes that they could find a driver and finish their trip the next summer. Abigail and her mother had made the best of their situation. They'd taken a room at the new boarding house, and grown so comfortable in their new community that they'd decided to stay.

Abigail had trained to be a teacher in Ohio, and the fact that this small town had no school had been disappointing. But she'd solved that by taking on pupils for private lessons. The Cass children and the two younger Cartwrights were the first to attend her classes in the boarding house dining room.

If she had been different, Abigail might have been lonely in her new surroundings. Becka Miller was the closest to her age, but the difference in years and interests was too broad for a friendship to develop. Then again, Abigail had never held the same interests as other young women she'd known, and she'd become comfortable with her mother as her companion.

The young teacher was also satisfied in her own company, and liked being alone as she walked the hills behind the boarding house or indulged in her favorite pastime of reading. She could lose herself for hours exploring the wonders of history and science or losing herself in the stories and poetry of love on the pages of her books.

There was one person with whom she felt an intellectual kinship. She knew Adam Cartwright was studying with a professor, and that he planned to go to college. Her favorite days were those when _he'd_ come for his brothers, and they'd talk about what they were reading. He was young, but she felt he already possessed the heart of a poet, the soul of a warrior, and the quick wit of an intellectual. The one hope she held in deepest secret, was that perhaps someday—after he returned from school—he might see her as the woman he would love. Being three years older than he would make no difference when they were both in their twenties, but it did now, and she never gave a hint of flirtation.

Abigail shook off her thoughts, and roused herself from her malaise to get ready. It was near noon, and she could hear voices and laughter through her open window, indicating the festivities had begun. She slipped into her dress and made her way outside where conversations billowed and fell around her like the dust she kicked up she headed toward the center of activity. With nothing to add to any of the topics being discussed, she went to the food table, and took her plate to join her mother and the other women in the shade of the mercantile's porch roof. She remained there long enough to appear social, before making her way to where the children were playing, hoping to find the one person she might engage in a meaningful conversation.

"Where's Adam?" she asked Hoss as he ran by in the midst of a game of tag.

"Oh, howdy, Miss Jones," he shouted back as he passed. He wasn't as fast as the smaller, wiry children and got caught quickly. "I don't know where my older brother got to," he said as he removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "I saw him talkin' to Miss Becka and then he sorta disappeared."

Abigail shouted her thanks as Hoss ran off again. She looked around to see if she might spot the missing Cartwright, and saw Becka having an animated discussion with her father near the livery. The Millers were not students of Abigail's, and although she would have liked the five girls in her class, she knew the family ran a large farm with no outside help, and figured Mrs. Miller was doing a satisfactory job with the basics.

Adam was nowhere to be seen, so by Abigail's estimation, she had given as much time to the event as was warranted, and she headed back to the boarding house; grabbed a book and blanket on her way through, and proceeded to a cozy oasis she'd discovered in the foothills, nestled beneath a growth of scrub trees. The blanket provided enough padding to make a comfortable seat in the sparse grass, while the branches overhead filtered the bright sunlight, making it the perfect spot to read. She leaned against the sun-warmed rocks to let the story of Romeo and Juliet take her away to a place where there was no talk of cattle, crops or the cost of a bolt of fabric. Her eyes grew heavy in the afternoon warmth, and she fell asleep dreaming of handsome young men who would die to prove their love.

She had no idea how long she'd been dozing, nor did she realize there was anyone nearby until she heard voices from the other side of the bolder she was resting against. The male voice belonged to Adam Cartwright, and she thought the person responding was Becka Miller. She assumed they didn't expect anyone to be so close to them because the path to their side of the boulder began at the far end of town, while hers originated behind the boarding house. Abigail soon realized they were having a very personal conversation, but there was no way for her to leave without them hearing her, so she tried reading again; hoping her concentration on written words would keep her from hearing their spoken ones. It didn't work, and she soon found herself listening carefully.

Adam had met Becka on the path and had taken her hand. He'd wondered what was going on when his attempt to kiss her cheek was rebuffed with a stiff-armed shove to his chest.

"So why'd you want to see me?" she asked once they were out of view from below.

Her coolness toward him now seemed as odd as her forwardness in the barn, and for a moment he thought he should just yell, "You're it!" and run away after tagging her. She'd probably think he was crazy, but maybe it would save him from making a bigger fool of himself. "Becka," he said as he gathered his courage. "Um…I wasn't aware that your feelings for me were changing until your birthday." He cleared his throat. "I _have_ noticed how pretty you've become, and I…"

She bounced on the balls of her feet as she interrupted him. "Adam Cartwright, are you proposing to me?"

He thought he might actually have to push his jaw back up from where it had dropped with her question. When the surprise left him able to use his mouth again, he answered, "No! Why would you think that?" His mind was moving like a stallion in full stride headed toward a cliff, and his tongue had dropped the reins. "I can't think about marriage until I finish school; I've got too much to do... It's just that after…what _you_ did in the barn…I just wanted to straighten things out…um, marry you…no!" His voice dropped to silence as the rational part of his brain finally yelled whoa. He'd seen his father try to "reason" with Marie, and it always seemed that the more the man said, the deeper he dug himself into a hole. He knew that he'd fallen into a similar pit of quicksand, and the best thing to do was shut up before his head went under.

"All I've heard about from you for the last two years is how you can't wait to go away to school," she spat at him. "Why you'd leave your pa's ranch to be with all those snooty people is beyond me. Life is different for me, Adam. I've got responsibilities to _my_ family."

His brow wrinkled as he tried to find any sense in what she'd said. "What have I done to upset you?"

Her tone softened as she stared at the ground. "My pa is going to make an announcement today that I'll be marrying Rufus Grainger. When you started talking, I thought maybe _you_ wanted to marry me, but since you don't, then I'll become Mrs. Grainger when the preacher comes through."

Her revelation shocked him so much that he had to sit on a rock to take it in. "You're barely 14, Becka. Is this the Rufus who works for _us_?" She nodded. "He must be in his late twenties. What can you have in common?" He thought a moment longer. "Do you care for him?"

She sat next to him. "I hardly know him, but it really doesn't matter how I feel."

"Then _why are_ you doing this?"

"Let me ask you something. Is it likely that you would want to marry me soon?"

He wished he could say something that would make her turn from this course, but he couldn't, and shook his head. "Attending college is the only thing I'm certain about right now. I think going to Boston is my destiny."

"Then maybe you can understand that helping my family is _my_ destiny. I don't get a say in how I do it; it just has to be done."

"How does marrying Rufus help your family?"

She looked away and chewed at her bottom lip before turning back. "My father always said that my mother was 'blessed' with many offspring, and _he_ was 'cursed' by them all being girls." She noted Adam's grimace and quickly added, "It's just a joke between him and Ma." She looked away and sighed. "But now Pa wants to make the farm bigger. Your ranch and Cass's store buy up everything we grow, and he wants to plant more crops and raise more chickens and pigs to sell to the wagon trains before they make the Sierra crossing. My sisters and I do as much as we can, but he needs a man's help."

"He could hire someone."

"He doesn't have enough money to do that _and_ buy the extra seed and stock. Besides, the few men he's hired in the past have taken off to the gold fields or to work on the Ponderosa where the money's better. I'm old enough now to take a husband who'll stay put. Pa said he married Ma when she was my age, and it worked out fine, and he promised he'd find someone who'd be good to me."

Adam knew that not all families were like his, but this was an eye-opener. His father expected loyalty and hard work from his sons—especially the oldest one—yet Adam knew that his father would never "make" him do anything like this to increase the profitability of the ranch. In fact Pa always encouraged him to chart his own course.

Becka broke into his thoughts. "Didn't you say you had something for me?"

He pulled the homemade necklace from his pocket and held it out to her.

She snorted. "It looks like a rock tied to a ribbon."

His cheeks grew hot with her assessment of his gift. "I guess it is. But what it signifies is important. The heart was shaped over thousands…maybe millions of years as water in the creek rushed around it. To me, it represents how we're formed by everything that happens to us in life." He smiled at her. "When you look at it, it can remind you that we might not see how every day things affect us, but one day we'll become something extraordinary."

She held it up and looked it over before laughing. "You've always had pretty words, Adam, but they don't mean a hill of beans out here." Then she pried the stone from the woven ribbon and tossed it to the ground. "It's just a rock and it belongs with its own kind."

She tried to leave then but Adam grabbed her arm to stop her. Her crude rejection of his gift had made him wonder if she had ever the nice girl he'd thought her to be. "Tell me something. Why did you think I might propose to you? We've never done anything even close to courting, except…" His soul went cold as he realized that their "meeting" in the barn had seemed off. "Just what was your performance in the hayloft about?"

Color shot into her cheeks as she tried to move away, but he held on, insisting on an answer. "It was nothing," she finally snapped.

"It wasn't nothing, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't what it seemed to be either."

She sighed explosively. "You're not going to like what I have to say."

"Just say it."

"When Pa told me I had to marry, he said he'd spread the word at the saloon that he was looking for a son-in-law of good character." Her blush deepened from the mild color of embarrassment to the deep crimson of hurt. "He didn't feel too good about having to do it there, but said it was where single men went, and one of them was probably lonely and looking to settle down."

He released her arm. "Rufus is one of the nicest men we have working for us. He doesn't drink much that I've ever seen, and he's soft spoken, doesn't fight or cuss, and he's easy to talk to. I guess you're 'lucky' that he's the one who accepted your father's proposition. But that doesn't explain where the hay loft fits into this."

Her words were spoken through a clenched jaw. "Ma was worried some when she saw how old Rufus was, and told Pa that maybe I'd be happier with someone younger. Pa thought about it and said it'd be a feather in his cap to get a Cartwright in our family, and so they set up a plan where that might happen."

Adam's mouth was hanging open again. "What kind of plan," came out in a squeak?

"I'd been telling my folks about your school talk, and how I didn't think you could be convinced to put that aside. So Pa plotted out for me to take you to the loft when your family came over. Ma told me what to do to get you riled up some...you know, the kissing and touching part. Pa planned to wait long enough to give me a chance to get you going, and then bring your pa to the barn, telling him he had a new plow. When they walked in, I was to start hollering at you to stop, and make sure my hair and dress were mussed enough to look like you'd been doing something bad. We'd have had your pa as a witness to your intentions, and my pa would have insisted that you marry me to keep my good name." She looked over at Adam and laughed spitefully. "But _you_ tore out of there like the devil was lickin' at your britches before they ever got there, and I wasn't sure what to do then. Pa said I could still say you'd sullied me somehow, but Ma said your Pa wouldn't believe it unless you'd been caught, and if he got mad, Ben Cartwright would pull the Ponderosa's business from us. Pa saw the truth in that, and gave Rufus the good news that he was about to take a wife. He said maybe Rufus was better anyhow since he wouldn't waste time reading or dreaming about what he'd lost."

The fried chicken and potato salad he'd had for lunch propelled up his esophagus, threatening an unceremonious exit as he considered what had almost happened. He managed to take a deep breath to calm his stomach and stop the dizziness that made him feel as though he'd fall flat on his face if he stood. The question of how he could have been so naïve; so easily duped by a family with a scheme, and how his entire future could have been derailed by his innocent kisses, kept circling his mind until he was forced to rest his head on his knees and breathe deeply.

Becka wasn't sure what to do. She thought Adam looked like he was going to be sick. While she waited for him to raise his head, she scanned the dirt in front of her, looking for the heart-shaped stone. She couldn't pick it out from the others, but recalled Adam's description and realized that it was a pretty good depiction of her life. Time would wash bits of her away until she'd be someone entirely different. Marrying young didn't bother her; she just wished she had more say in what stream she'd be forced to await her transformation. She sighed deeply, knowing she should get back for the big announcement. Yet she had a moment of remorse as she realized she'd lost a friend. She touched his shoulder. "I didn't mean to hurt you; I just did what I had to do." she said contritely. When he didn't respond, she added, "Say something, Adam."

He brought his head up slowly and shrugged her hand away. In the last few minutes he'd been able to sort through what he'd heard, and realized how close he'd come to losing his future. The good news was that he was no worse-for-wear. He grinned at her. "All of us who are anything, will spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth."

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "You're so strange, Adam," she said before hurrying away.

Adam was certain he'd heard a chuckle at the end of his talk with Becka, and suspected someone had heard the appalling conversation. If true, then this episode of his life would be the fodder of every joke in town for months to come. He climbed silently atop the boulder and felt his heart sink when he saw Miss Jones exiting a sheltered den below him.

Abigail stretched to relieve the kinks she'd gotten while waiting for Becka and Adam to leave. She shaded her eyes to follow the upward flight of a small wren, and saw Adam Cartwright staring down at her, looking most displeased. A startled yip escaped with the comprehension that she'd been caught eavesdropping. She tried to get away, but he slid down the rock and stepped in front of her.

"Well, you got an earful," he said accusingly. "You have a fine story to tell your friends at my expense." He spoke in a falsetto. "Poor Adam Cartwright: he's too stupid to know when a girl is trying to engineer a marriage proposal."

Her eyes bulged as she listened, and she started to laugh when he finished. "You're forgetting one important fact; I have no friends, and therefore no one to tell this tale of woeful naiveté and machination." She watched the lines of anger dissolve from his cheeks as his jaw loosened. "Besides, you make it sound like you have something to be ashamed of. The person I feel sorry for is that lame-brained girl who's being forced into marriage to avoid paying a hired hand." She tapped her foot as her lips pinched into an angry pucker. "How dreadful for that family to hatch a scheme that would have ended your plans and bring you into their servitude.

Adam blushed. "You confirmed what I was thinking. Thank you."

"Glad to help," she said, and then giggled. "I assume I got caught because I thought your closing remark was brilliant. I laughed because I knew she wouldn't have a clue that you'd insulted her. It was the perfect Shelley quote."

"You're familiar with Shelley?"

"He's too risqué for mother, so I read his works when I'm out of the house. Wasn't your quote from the book of Percy's letters his wife published after his death? My copy arrived recently, so it's still fresh in my mind."

"Professor Metz let me read his copy over the winter." He smiled for the first time. "I'm sorry if I was rude, but I was feeling a little undone."

"I imagine you were, yet I feel worse for her than you." She chuckled as his eyes rounded. "Don't look so surprised. Despite the ugliness in their intention; you came out of it with your life intact. You will still go to Boston and attend a fine university, and _you_ have a family that supports your aspirations. On the other hand, she has parents who see her as a commodity, no different than their eggs and potatoes."

He nodded thoughtfully. "That's insightful Abigail." He laughed and shook his head. "I'm thankful that you overhead instead of someone else. You don't find humor in other people's discomfort or feel the need to make awkward moments more difficult." He took her blanket and book, and offered his arm. "I'll walk you back to town."

The two sat on the boarding house porch talking about contemporary writers until they saw Ben coming their way. Adam waved. "Hi, Pa."

"I was wondering where you'd gone," Ben tipped his hat to Abigail. "I imagine you two were discussing your favorite books again. We'll be leaving soon, son, so finish up and get to the wagon." He'd started to walk away when he looked back. "Did you hear the big announcement from the Millers? It sure surprised Marie and me."

"I heard about it earlier." He turned toward Abigail and winked before adding, "Seems like the Millers had a crop ready and went ahead with the harvest. I hope Rufus and Becka will be happy."

 **Two**

 **First Love**

 _ **(Seven Years Later in Boston)**_

"I can't believe I graduate tomorrow. These four years have gone so fast," Adam remarked to Melinda, the niece of Abel's nearest neighbor, and the young woman he'd grown to love during his years in Boston. "I'm glad you're staying with your aunt tonight so you can go to the ceremony with Grandfather tomorrow."

"I wouldn't miss it, Adam. Did you get your cap and gown?"

"C'mon inside; I'll show you." He grabbed her hand and led her from the front steps, into the Stoddard parlor where his gray morning coat, black trousers, white tie, and shirt hung from the bannister next to his black graduation robe. "Look at this." He rubbed his finger across the matching emblems on the front panels of his gown. "The white crow's-feet indicate that I'm graduating with a science degree."

Melinda hugged him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "You're going to look so handsome I can barely breathe thinking about it." She looked over the clothing again. "I thought you'd wear a special collar or braid…something to show that you're at the top of your class."

"They don't allow any extras to be worn with Harvard gowns, but I wrote you about the speech I'll give in Latin at commencement. That's the honor given to top students." He chuckled when he observed Melinda's sidelong glance. "I know…writing and delivering something in Latin hardly seems a reward, but it is a longstanding tradition. I also get to walk at the front of the undergraduates in the procession from Cambridge to the Yard." He turned her toward the array on dining room table. "And those are the awards and plaques I received at the class banquet last week."

"Wow. You really are smart!" She teased until she saw him blush, and quickly changed the subject. "Is your speech ready?" She laughed when he rolled his eyes. "I should ask if you've practiced it instead?"

He nodded. "I had it approved a while ago, and I've gone over it so much with Frankie that he groans whenever I open my mouth."

"It's nice that your roommate is so accommodating."

"We're more than roommates, Melinda. I've spent so much time at the Wadsworth home that Frankie's parents call me their second son, and I think of him as a brother. Having my grandfather and the Wadsworths around made it easier to be away from home." He glanced over as he pulled at a wrinkle in the lower part of his gown, and saw the hurt look wash across Melinda's face. He listened to make sure that Abel wasn't coming downstairs before he drew the beautiful young woman to him for a deep kiss. "I left someone out of that statement, but it wasn't an oversight. My life changed forever the day I saw you and fell out of that pine tree. What I feel for you is something I never expected to find while I was here. I wish we could have been together more than just a few weekends and holidays each year, but thinking of our next meeting kept me pushing through my classwork so I could enjoy our time when it occurred.

Her blush was accompanied by a smile. "I love you too, Adam. I think that's what you were saying." His kiss indicated his answer. She pushed back and grinned before kissing his nose. "I have to get back to my aunt, so let's go over the plans for tomorrow one more time. I know you're spending tonight in your dorm, so I won't see you until after you've been inducted in the 'fellowship of educated men.'"

"I can't wait for the morning," he said, twirling her around. "A bagpipe will wake us, and the seniors will go to breakfast together for the last time. Then we all go to church, and after that we'll begin the formalities of graduation. The Wadsworths will stop for you and Abel around nine and go to the campus so you can see the end of our procession. Then you'll head into the hall for the ceremony, and finally, Grandfather will take us all out for dinner at the Union Oyster House."

"That's pretty costly, isn't it?" She smiled. "Your grandfather is usually more frugal." The Oyster House was the oldest restaurant in Boston, and Melinda knew the distinction allowed them to command hefty prices. Abel Stoddard seemed to have a comfortable income, but not one that would allow such a generous outlay for a group that included her and the Wadsworths.

"My father sent money to pay for my graduation. It's Pa's way of making the day special since he can't be here." He organized his thoughts again. "I have the senior party at Harvard tomorrow night. I've helped at those so I know what goes on, and I intend to take full advantage of that rite of passage. I plan to sleep a little later the next morning, and then I still have to clean out my room and see a few professors before heading back here." He pulled her close for a quick kiss. "That just leaves the picnic at the Wadsworth's the day after. Their coach will pick us up around one." He nodded. "That's about it."

Melinda smiled as she glanced up at the clock. "It all sounds wonderful. I have just enough time to hear your speech…in English, so I'll know what you're saying."

"There are a number of presenters, so student speeches are limited to a sentence or two. Basically mine says that our next great challenge will be to _act_ in life: to consider each situation rationally, rather than to let impulse force our _reaction_. Our faith in God, our laws, our families, and our fellow man, along with the mental discipline we've learned here, will allow us to face each opportunity with discernment."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "It's perfect, Adam."

Adam put his arms behind his head as he tried to fall asleep in his dormitory bed. Frankie was already snoring, making it even harder to doze off. Yet that wasn't causing his insomnia. It was the company of his memories from the years since his dream of attending college had become a reality.

After three years of studying with Professor Metz on the Ponderosa, they'd left for Boston where he'd tested and qualified at several universities. The professor had told Ben about the likelihood of this happening, and he'd also gone over the costs involved. Before they'd left, Ben had told his son to choose the best, and Adam had.

He'd spent the first months in Boston living with his grandfather and working at a livery while he'd gotten to know his way around the city. The distance between Abel's house and Cambridge had been too long for a daily trip, so he'd stayed at the campus dorms where he'd been paired with Frankie Wadsworth, a member of a wealthy, founding-father family with a large estate outside town. The two roommates had grown up differently, yet they'd had common interests, had both chosen the engineering program, and they both had loyal, close-knit families.

Frankie had taken him home for a weekend early on, and he'd been invited to return whenever he was available. He'd come to know and care about the Wadsworths during these visits. Frank Wadsworth and Ben Cartwright had come from different backgrounds, but Adam had found that the two men were alike in their forceful characters, and the way they approached their destinies. Being taken in by this Eastern family had lessened his loneliness for his own opinionated father and pesky brothers.

Going to college had been the "cake," but the frosting had been spending time with his grandfather. Adam had wondered about Abel Stoddard since his father had first told him about the old sea captain. The hope of finding out about his mother had driven him as well, and the summers and holidays he'd spent in the Stoddard home had proven idyllic in that regard.

His grandfather was a serious man, but he possessed a quick wit and quiet, strong philosophies. Adam had come to know that there were episodes in the man's life that still bothered him. As they'd walked home from a pub one evening, Abel had said that bad decisions he'd made around the time of his grandson's birth, might have added to his daughter's difficulties. He hadn't elaborated, but Adam had seen the agony in the older man's eyes. The brief admission had left Adam certain that he hadn't been the only one to feel guilt over his mother's passing.

Abel hadn't touched Elizabeth's room since Ben had left with Adam, and it had become her son's place of refuge the first months in Boston. He felt her presence whenever he sat on her bed, surrounded by the things that had been hers. He'd always had dreams of his mother, but she'd always seemed so far away. Now she was a part of him.

Another incredible thing had happened in Boston. At the start of his sophomore year, he'd met Melinda after he'd fallen from a ladder. He'd been helping his grandfather prune a tall pine when Abel had released his steadying grip on the implement to greet a neighbor and her niece. Unfortunately, he'd simultaneously changed his center of gravity while trying to get a better look at the pretty girl below him, and the ladder had arced away from the house, depositing him in a hawthorn. He'd been seriously injured, and Melinda Hayworth, the young lady at the center of it all, had visited during his recovery.

He'd met many young ladies during his first year in Boston. They'd come from wealthy families who'd been invited to the Wadsworths' parties. The pampered lovelies assumed he was wealthy because of his association with Frankie's family. He'd often wondered what they'd have thought if they had known that his fine suits had been borrowed from his host, and that his "fortune" was measured in acres of grazing land and timber, and heads of cattle in the pasture.

Those girls were flirtatious and eager, but he couldn't abide their reluctance to show their intellects. It wasn't proper etiquette for ingénues to voice opinions on any meaningful issue, and Adam had grown tired of conversations about upcoming cotillions or having tea with a prominent hostess.

In Melinda he'd found a perfect combination of beauty and intelligence. She'd trained as a teacher, worked as a governess for a Boston family, and kept an eye on her aging aunt whenever she could get away. He loved that she kept abreast of all that was going on in the city, and articulated her views. They'd talked for hours whenever their schedules had allowed them to be together, and Adam had fallen in love. He'd held back initially because his experience with Becka Miller had made him wary of believing his feelings in matters of the heart. But Melinda had proved to be the antithesis to Becka. She was loving, constant, and honest, and he'd finally allowed himself to admit his feelings—at least to himself.

The thought of leaving Melinda behind made him sigh in the darkness. He wished she could come with him, but she'd set her sights on a goal he could understand and support. She'd decided to go to college, and had accepted a scholarship to a woman's university in Illinois. There would be a lengthy separation and he was torn about the time they'd be apart. This eased as he made a quick decision that would restore order to his complicated future, and he smiled as he finally drifted off.

It seemed like he'd only been sleeping minutes when he heard the cacophony of bagpipes outside the window. A broad smile crossed his lips as he jumped from his bed and hollered, "C'mon, Frankie, it's time to commence!"

Adam leaned against the rail of the Wadsworths' veranda and recalled the excitement of the last three days. He'd loved every minute of his graduation, and his only regret had come from his father's absence. He was anxious to get home and start on the projects his father had outlined in recent letters…and to see how his education could benefit their ranch operation.

The one downside to proceeding with his life was that it required "leaving" people behind again. He'd left his father and brothers to come here, but he'd felt their presence within himself every day he'd been away. He knew that Abel and the Wadsworths would be in his thoughts the same way once he was back on the Ponderosa. And hopefully, Melinda would become a promise for his future.

Melinda touched his arm. "Where are you, Adam? We left the dance because you wanted to talk to me. We've been standing together for a few minutes already, and I don't think you know I'm here."

He took her hand and kissed it before wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer. "I was thinking about getting home. There'll be so many changes. Pa built a new house from sketches I drew up before I left, and I can't wait to see my brothers. He wrote that Hoss is as tall as a tree, and Little Joe is full of schemes and ideas like always, but he's better at pulling them off now." He tightened his hold around her. "But I also wish I could stay here…with you."

She snuggled closer. "I do wish we could stay like this forever, but alas…time will move forward." She looked into his eyes. "I should have put my arm on my forehead for the full dramatic effect." They both chuckled. "Did you finalize the plans for your trip?"

"I'll take the train to Kansas next week. I wrote you that I was going with a supply caravan, but a few weeks ago I read about a stage company that leaves from Atchison. They're trying to win mail contracts out West and the article said they were allowing a few passengers on their cross-country routes free of charge. I telegraphed them about the offer, and a ticket arrived yesterday. Their letter said to be prepared for a rough trip since they're running roads that aren't well established."

"That sounds miserable." She shuddered.

"I suppose it will be, but a stage stops only to get a fresh team and a short rest, or when there's bad weather, so I'll be home in no time, compared to going overland by wagon."

Melinda touched his cheek and breathed a kiss onto his lips. "I wish it were different."

"About that." he stepped back and took her hands. I'd like to borrow some words from Shelley that seem to fit my intention.

" _The fountains mingle with the river,  
And the rivers with the ocean;  
The winds of heaven mix forever  
With a sweet emotion;  
_

 _Nothing in the world is single;  
All things by a law divine  
In another's being mingle-  
Why not I with thine?"_

She bit her bottom lip. "Love's Philosophy,"* she whispered. "You know me so well, Adam."

"So, Melinda Hayworth, will you marry me? I know we can't do it until you're done with school."

Melinda figured Adam would ask her to be his fiancée before he left for home, and she also knew she would refuse…for now. She tried to smile. "I can't." She saw his frown as his brows drew together, and she looked away as she fought to control her tears. "I know we've talked about marrying, and while I want to be your wife…now isn't the time for us to be making plans for it."

Adam's mouth hung open just as it had some years back when Becka Miller had tried to trick him into proposing. Now he wanted to be engaged, and the love of his life didn't want him.

Melinda waited for his reply. She finally, whispered, "Say something, Adam."

"I don't understand." He shook his head and looked down at his feet. "I thought you loved me."

"I love you with all my heart. But I want you to think back to your graduation message. You warned your classmates about reacting to situations. I think this proposal is a reaction to the upheaval in your life right now. You're so organized and logical that you want to put everything in order before you leave—including us. But we can't put our future in order yet." Melinda brushed a wisp of hair back from his forehead and rested her hand on his cheek. "You're going home, and I leave for college soon. You've been my example and my greatest champion in proceeding with my education. And _you_ said that you _need_ to help your family." She raised his chin so he'd look at her. "Our separation will last several years, and an engagement over all that time and all those miles would seem endless."

He nodded while holding her hand in place against his face. His mind agreed with her, but his heart ached. He did feel an obligation to repay his father in effort for what he'd taken from the family resources. The Ponderosa was bringing in good money but he knew his father had made sacrifices to pay for his education. It was more than that though. He had missed working at his side, and needed to have that again. "I thought our separation might be tolerable if there was a goal."

"We will be together one day, Adam. But we'll be better in our journeys if we're not promised to something that's too distant to be real."

His voice rose in pitch and his cheeks reddened. "Are you doing this so you can be courted by others…to see if I pass muster in comparison?"

"No!" The tears she'd controlled began to overflow. "I want _you_ to be free to try whatever you want while we're apart. And I'm not talking about being with other women. You should have the freedom to try every opportunity you're offered, and I can do the same." She laid her hand on his chest. "We love each other, Adam. Our promise to be together again will remain here in our hearts, not tied to a promise given at an emotional time. We'll both live to the fullest, and that will make us even better people when we reunite. Our marriage will be the culmination of our trust and love."

Adam drew her towards him and held on tight. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Everything you said makes sense, and I want you to have a wonderful time at school, just as I did." He chuckled. "Count on you to remind me of what I said in my speech. You were right; I did react to the thought of losing you and tried to fix things in the future that can't be set yet. Time and life are demanding masters, and they may set us on courses we can't imagine right now." He nestled his cheek in her hair. "I will miss you."

"And I will miss you. But I'll write every week."

"I promise to do the same." After a long kiss he led her to the door. "We should get back in before they come looking for us." Adam stopped with his hand on the knob. "You must promise that when we're together again and I propose, you'll say yes without doubts or conditions."

She winked. "My love, when that time comes, I'll propose to you."

 **Three**

 **Lost Love**

 _ **(Ten months after getting home from school)**_

Jerry rode up next to Hoss. "What's goin' on with your brother? He's been surly lately, and today it's worse than ever. Half the hands are talkin' about tyin' him up, coverin' his clothes with honey, and letting the fire ants have a feast."

Hoss laughed. "Well at least it's only half-a-them want to torture him."

Jerry's head bobbed up and down. "That's true, Hoss, but the other half wants to shoot him."

The young man had noticed his brother's dark mood as well, and he'd determined that Adam's grumpiness was tied to the weekly post arrival. This had been going on for a couple of months already, but Jerry was right: it had gotten unbearable over the last two weeks. Adam had hollered at the hands, sulked around the house, and Hoss thought there would be all-out war the previous night when his brother had snapped at their father over some minor difference of opinion. But Pa just grinned when Adam had stomped upstairs.

That had prompted Hoss to ask Pa the same question Jerry had just posed. His father had assured him that Adam would be fine if they gave him time. It had been Pa's grin and failure to apply the house rule of parental respect that had convinced Hoss this was a matter of the heart. Hoss had received the same disciplinary leniency a year back when _he'd_ been churlish after his pledge of love had been rejected.

Having an inkling of what was wrong, and sharing it outside the family were steers of a different color, so Hoss shrugged and replied, "I don't rightly know what's goin' on."

Jerry nodded. "I bet it's a woman. The only time I get that mad-dog mean is when a gal I'm sweet on tears my heart out and tramps on it."

Adam's sourness persisted through the week, and worsened after the mail arrived. No one wanted to be around him. Hoss stayed in his room until he knew Adam was done with breakfast, and even Ben took his coffee out to the porch if his eldest sat across the table from him wearing an expression that dared conversation. At age eleven, Little Joe took particular pleasure in telling of his older brothers' indiscretions at the table and watching the ensuing turmoil as Pa reigned justice. But even Joe was silent; eating quickly before heading anywhere Adam wasn't.

Ben had given his eldest a wide berth with his behavior. He knew Adam had been forced to make many adjustments since returning to the ranch. He'd distinguished himself at school, but now he'd become just "the boss's kid" again. The hired men had no idea how much the boy had accomplished while he'd been away, and they'd made him prove himself to them again…as a drover. He had endured the same pranks and hazing he'd gone through as a teenager, and he'd gotten through the new round with composure and humor.

It hadn't ended there; Ben had done his own unintended hazing with his son. Adam's trophies, citations, and awards for academic achievements had provided evidence of the young man's aptitude, and that had made his father uneasy. He'd pulled a tight rein on the boy, refusing to accept or even listen to his suggestions. It had taken Adam's decision to leave the ranch to work in San Francisco before father and son had finally talked about their rift. They'd been working well together since then as he helped Adam learn the ranch business from the ground up, and his son contributed his engineering knowledge to improve their operation.

Ben had a good idea what was bothering his son. He'd witnessed this sort of behavioral breakdown with others when they were...in love. Letters from Abel had mentioned a neighbor's niece—a lovely young woman who had visited her aunt regularly—and even more regularly after she'd met his grandson.

He could understand the feelings that came from being separated from the one you cared about. He'd fallen in love with Elizabeth when he was still sailing, and the months they'd been apart had seemed interminable. It made him wonder if his mood aboard ship had grown equally as menacing when their voyages dragged on. Maybe it was a case of like father: like son. But whatever the cause, he realized that Adam's temperament was affecting everyone, and it had to be addressed.

Ben pulled Adam aside as he prepared to leave for a cattle drive to the San Francisco markets. All three boys were near the door when he called Adam over, and he smiled when he heard Hoss and Little Joe speculate that Adam was about to have a "necessary talk." His oldest boy was too big to have the old-fashioned application of hand to backside, but Ben had to admit that this talk was "necessary."

"Sit down," he commanded after he dropped into the green chair behind his desk. He waited for compliance. "You're entitled to your privacy when it comes to your personal business, Adam. What I will address is your behavior."

Adam's tone held the same sharp edge he'd been honing all week. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ben snorted. "Then you're the only one who doesn't. The men are complaining; your brothers hate coming to the table and hide from you the rest of the time, and even I try to avoid you when the mail arrives and there's nothing for you. I assume you're expecting an important correspondence that hasn't come, and the disappointment has built upon itself until it has become…quite apparent. You're a strong young man, and you _must_ find a way to deal with this more productively."

The "young man" in question slouched down in his chair, and blew a long breath through his clenched teeth. He looked up with a wry smile. "I thought I _was_ doing a good job of handling it, but it seems I may be wrong about that."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "It's just that I thought…" He paused as he drew a deep breath. "Anyway, I've given it enough time. Several letters from Grandfather and the Wadsworths have made it here, so the ones I've been waiting for could have arrived as well."

"Would these be from a young woman?" Ben asked gently.

A nod. "I've sent her a letter each week since I've been back, and she said she'd do the same. We were…friends, and…I…miss her."

"Could you enlist Abel to find out if all is well?"

"He mentioned seeing her and that she got off to school as planned. I don't want to involve him any more than that. I know how busy I was when I started at Harvard. She's probably so immersed in her studies that she's…forgotten..." He sighed, and then smiled and stood. "I'm sorry I've been so hard to live with."

Ben knew this was all his son would divulge, but he also knew it had taken a lot for him to admit this much. He walked over and laid an arm around Adam's shoulders as they moved toward the door. "'Friendships' are never easy to leave behind, but your life is full of fresh opportunities. You won't ever forget her, but you'll be able to move forward without her." He gave his son a playful punch to his arm. "Beside, looking back just gives you a sore neck."

 **Four**

 **Physical Expressions**

The cattle drive had taken them across the treacherous passes of the Sierras, and they'd reached Sacramento where they would drop off a third of the herd at that market before continuing to San Francisco. Adam had made a concerted effort to keep his feelings in check since becoming aware of how it had affected others, and much as his father had predicted, this long drive—the first since he'd been home, and his first time in charge—had forced him to concentrate on cattle business rather than on what he'd lost.

During long evenings in a saddle watching steers, he'd been able to think things through and he'd come to terms with his loss. He'd decided that he wanted Melinda to have the life she wanted, even if he wasn't in it. He finally accepted that the attention her life demanded of her in her studies took precedence over him. What did still astound…and wound him, was that she forgot about him so quickly.

His thoughts had turned to her again last night as he'd ridden watch, and he'd let his heart say goodbye as he'd wished for her happiness, and forgave her for not caring as much as he had. His anger had dissolved in the clear, crisp air, and he'd vowed to look forward as his father had advised. This absolution had left him feeling so free that he decided to join a few of his crew when they went into Sacramento the next evening to let off some steam.

They were staying at a spread near the city for a few days of grazing before moving to the coast. Of course they were paying for that privilege, and had to watch the herd carefully so no steers wandered into the surrounding fields. But the grass in their section was good, and the beef seemed as content as the men to have a breather. The bonus of the stopover was that they could get by with a smaller crew at night, and they were close enough to town that Adam could schedule a rotation of his men to have a night away.

The sun had begun its decent as Adam worked a lather in his shaving cup to get ready for his evening in town, and he smiled as he recalled what cattle drives had been like before he'd gone to school. He'd started working with herd when he was fourteen, but he'd never been on a drive without his father before he'd left for college. The drovers were decent men, yet his father must have had misgivings about letting his son go alone with them.

He finished shaving and slipped into a clean shirt as he considered what to expect. There'd be drinking and flirting with the barmaids, and the men who had a few dollars left after that might gamble. While he wasn't "well acquainted" with those vices, he knew he could hold his own. Harvard was a serious school, but students indulged in revelry on the weekends. There were many pubs that catered solely to the scholastic crowd who'd spend the better part of their allowances on Saturday night, and then stumble back to the dorms singing bawdy sailing songs or the Harvard hymn with more concern for volume than pitch. He figured that had prepared him for anything he might face tonight.

Adam was tucking in the tails of his shirt when Jerry came by and grabbed his sleeve, ending his recollections. "C'mon, kid," he said, "the rest of us is ready to go, and this night ain't gettin' any younger.

Adam's expectation of being able to relax in town had been more than met by the time the clock struck ten. They'd stopped at a cheap bar on the edge of town to get started, and then moved to a more expensive one in the city that had a revue. The first act had ended, and during intermission, the five men began to discuss the ups and downs of the drive.

Jerry listened a bit before sitting back in his chair and addressing Adam. "We gotta say, we're glad you got shed of that bur you had under yer saddle a couple weeks back." His long belch set the group laughing, but he shushed them to continue. "I think we was all scared you might bite our heads off."

Adam laughed. "I heard…sumpthin' like that." He stopped to consider why his words didn't sound right, and laughed again as he realized he was "well-oiled." "Su…sorry I was so..." He ended with a shrug.

The others at the table saluted him with their glasses, but Jerry said, "I suspected you had gal troubles. Them females can always turn a good man into…" He squinted as his mouth pulled to a pucker. "Well, I guess they turn us into what you was like."

Another drover named, Slim, pounded his hand against the table. "Yup. Them gals'll do it every time." He smiled slyly. "But if one a them purdy gals up on stage came over here, I'd follow after her like a danged puppy dog just hopin' for a pat on the head."

By the end of the second show, the five men at Adam's table had polished off another bottle of passable whisky. The two older hands who seemed little affected by the empty bottles of liquor lined up in front of Adam, said they were heading back to the herd, while the other two headed to the stage in hopes of interesting the pretty girls in having a drink with them.

Adam was ready to call it a night, but assumed he'd fall off his horse if he tried riding in his "loosened" condition, so he decided to stay in town. He told his men he had to come back for business in the morning anyway, so he would save time staying over… At least he thought that's what he'd told them, because his words weren't coming out quite as he intended. He bid his men goodnight and made it from the table to the saloon door without having to stop, although he could have sworn the floor was moving like a ship on a wild sea. The cool night air allowed him to focus better as he looked up the street, hoping to find lodging. After weaving along for a block, he saw a sign for _The Boardroom_. His memory wasn't working well, but he did recall seeing something bearing this name not long ago. His father had left a matchbox sitting on the arm of his chair after lighting his pipe, and Adam had noticed the ornate printing on the container as he'd walked by. He'd asked where it was from, and had been left wondering when Pa had grabbed the box and stuffed it deep into his pocket. When Adam had pressed him, he had mumbled that it was a hotel in Sacramento, and then quickly changed the subject. The print on the sign was the same style as on the box, and since his father had said it was a hotel, Adam decided he didn't need to look any further. "Thisss'll do," he slurred aloud as he turned and stumbled up the steps to the door.

The lavish interior and glittering light from the chandeliers revealed the varied hues of the blue velvet chairs in the lobby. He smiled lopsidedly, happy that he'd found a nice hotel in the part of town known for entertainment rather than hostelry. He unintentionally kicked the spittoon as he approached the front desk, and managed to right the receptacle before it spilled. The effort made him dizzy, and leaned heavily against the counter to keep from slipping off the side. When he was anchored securely, he hit the bell several times and gave the clerk a broad smile. "I'd like a room, my good man," he requested in a loud voice that surprised him. "I'm…I'm s-s-sorry," he added with a giggle, "I s-s-seem to be a little drunk."

"That'll be 40 dollars," the clerk told him.

"F-f-forty dollars?" Adam howled. "That's a ver…that's a very ex-or…" He sighed while composing his thought. "That's a lot for a hotel."

"We're not a hotel, sir," the clerk explained. "We're a gentleman's club: the best in the city, serving the finest clients with the most beautiful hostesses." His voice took on a tone of mild disgust. "If you are unable to afford our rates, then I'd suggest you go back to where you came from."

A striking blond came to the counter after hearing raised voices. "Is there a problem?"

"I don't think the kid knows where he is," the clerk sneered, nodding toward his patron.

She gave the potential guest a good looking over and smiled appreciatively, before asking him, "Is that true, sir?"

"I jussst want a room. I got the money." He yawned as he fumbled through his pockets, and finally gave up, shrugging. "I know I have a wallet s-s-somewhere, but I'm so tired, I could fall asleep right here on the counter." He pointed toward the nearby furniture. "Let me sit down and look for it." He headed toward a settee but tripped on a carpet edge and sprawled onto the floor. He looked up at the blond who was now standing over him, grinning. "Just let me stay here. I'm…used to sleepin' on the ground."

"Sorry cowboy," the woman said as she pulled him to his knees and chuckled. "What would our other customers think if they saw you snoring in the middle of the floor? You got a name?"

He thought about that. "I'm sure I do. Wait a second…yeah, it'sss Cart-wright."

She tipped her head to take a better look. "Are you related to Ben Cartwright?"

"My faaather." He retrieved his hat from where it had flown with his fall, and stuck it on his head backwards. "I think he might have stayed here once. I saw matches with this name…"

"He has," she cut him off as she made him stand up and walk to the couch. She sat next to him and reached inside his coat to find his wallet. After ruffling through the bills, she told the clerk, "He's got enough. Help me get him to my room." The young man had drifted to sleep against her shoulder, so she raised his chin and spoke loudly enough to startle him. "I'm Bonnie, and I saw some papers in your wallet that say you're Adam Cartwright. So, Adam, we're going upstairs now and I'll take care of you tonight."

He smiled sleepily. "Thank you, Bonnie. You're very attrative, um attrackive…oh heck…yer pretty."

"Thanks, cowboy." She grinned as she and the clerk each took an arm and helped him up the stairs.

He awoke with a start that sent his head and stomach spinning. After a few deep breaths he was able to push himself up enough to take a look around. He noticed the woman who'd helped him earlier sitting across the room, stitching a needlepoint while she hummed softly.

Bonnie put her work aside and came to the bedside. "How you doing?" She grabbed a chamber pot from under the bed when she noticed how pale he'd gotten and handed it to him in time to catch his exiting stomach contents.

He dropped back to the pillows as he groaned, and looked away. "I'm sorry."

She spoke gently. "Don't apologize. I'm here to take care of you. And you'll feel better sooner for getting rid of that. In fact I'd say you were lucky that much hadn't already gotten into your system." After placing the evidence of his debauchery outside the door, she returned to the bedside with a carafe of water and a glass she gathered from the dresser. "I want you to drink a good deal of this, and then I'll get you a warm bath."

Adam faced her again, noticing that she'd changed into a filmy robe over a figure-revealing satin gown. "Is this…a brothel?" he asked as his eyebrows rose into his hairline.

"It's a gentleman's club, like the man said downstairs. We're a respectable, high-class establishment, as you figured out from the price, and that's a good thing for you. If you'd gone to a different hotel in your condition, they'd have emptied your wallet and hauled your handsome behind out to the garbage pile in the alley. Here we protect our customers—unless they're looking to cause trouble. For those who show up 'unaffected,' we have a billiard room, a poker room and a first-rate bar and restaurant. On the other hand, if someone just needs a safe place to talk things out, sleep it off or forget their troubles, we let them do that too. We'll decide where this evening goes for you once you're feeling better."

He glanced toward the clock, surprised to see he'd only been there an hour. Yet after expelling a good amount of liquor, and getting a little sleep, he felt less groggy. With the increased clarity came another thought from earlier. "Did you say that my father stayed here?"

She blushed. "I shouldn't have said anything. We ensure anonymity. Rest assured that no one will know that you were here tonight unless you tell them." She winked at him. "And maybe you can forget that I said anything about Ben. He's a nice man and I wouldn't want him to feel embarrassed."

Adam blanched and swallowed hard. "He wasn't…I mean you don't…"

"If you're worried that I'm the one he sees 'if' he comes here," she smiled, "I'm not. But we all get to know our returning customers."

His mind had seemed clearer a minute earlier, but now it was spinning again. He kept asking himself why he was here, and then why his father would come here. He just wanted a hotel with a soft bed where he wouldn't hear a single moo, and he wouldn't have to pretend to be in a good mood. He'd been able to put Melinda out of his mind a good deal of the time during the trip, but she still crept into his thoughts when he least expected her there. He wondered what she'd think if she could see him right now, but then she _had_ advocated taking advantage of each opportunity...although this probably wasn't what she'd envisioned.

He thought he should leave and go to one of the other hotels Bonnie had mentioned, before this went any further. Yet, he had to admit that she did make him feel at ease. He was hit with another thought that made his heart beat faster and blood rush to his cheeks. He hadn't ever been with a woman…not in the way he figured she was ready to provide. There had only been one saloon in Virginia City where you could get a girl for a price, but in the talk with him about such things, his father had cautioned him about indulging...where he lived. Pa's gospel was that gossip could cause irreparable damage to a man's personal and business reputation, so he should think long and hard about where he was before he "let off steam."

Living in the territory before he'd left for school had given him no opportunities to be "with" a woman. Becka and Miss Jones were the only two females even close to his age, and he'd always been so busy with work on the ranch and studying that carnal exploration had never been a concern. Once he'd gotten to Boston he'd been with his grandfather and then too busy keeping up in school to think about it. Once he met Melinda, he wouldn't have compromised her, or betrayed her by going to a brothel.

Things were different now, and his mind raced. It seemed that his future with Melinda was as nonexistent as her letters, so maybe it was time to go ahead. If his father felt this place had enough discretion to keep his reputation unsullied, then it would do the same for him.

He was starting to sweat with the effort of his thoughts, making him feel worse again. He realized that Bonnie was familiar with such bad behavior in her patrons when she gave him a knowing look and produced another receptacle from under the bed, telling him to let it go; that it was a very good thing. His previous thoughts about ending his sensual innocence, dissolved in embarrassment as he retched miserably until he felt better. "I think I should go to a regular hotel," he said softly when he could finally speak.

Bonnie shook her head and clucked at him while wetting a cloth. "You've already paid for this room, so you'll stay where you are." She dabbed the sweat from his forehead, cheeks and neck. "You still need to get some water in you, but you'll sober pretty quickly now that you've lost a lot of what ailed you. And you'll feel a whole lot better tomorrow if you don't just fall asleep now." She handed him a glass and motioned for him to drink. "I don't know why it is, but the men who drink water along with their booze never get as drunk or as sick as those who don't." Bonnie dabbed away the water that had trickled down his chin, and smiled. "Tell me something; have you ever had this much to drink before?"

A shake of his head reminded him to stay still as the room spun. He moved one leg off the bed so his foot was on the floor, hoping it would anchor him and keep the scenery around him from moving. "I usually drink beer and get full before I get drunk."

"So what was different about tonight?"

"I was with my crew. We took turns buying bottles and passed them around. I guess I didn't monitor my consumption."

"Did the others 'monitor _their_ consumption' better than you?"

He had to think about that. Everyone at the table had been pretty carefree by the time the group had broken up, but the two who'd headed back to camp hadn't seemed "drunk,", and the two who were flirting with the dancing girls had actually sobered up a little by the time he'd left. The truth became clear as he pictured the evening. The bottles had always ended up in front of him, and he'd refilled his shot glass far more frequently than his companions. He groaned as he realized he was lucky to be conscious, and even luckier to have stumbled into this gentleman's club where Bonnie had taken him into her care. "I had the most," he finally admitted as he closed his eyes.

"I think you should drink another glass of water, and then have a long soak to relax."

Adam slipped deep into the warm water of the tub. He'd bobbled a little as he'd stood, and after Bonnie helped him with his shirt buttons she'd left, saying she'd be right back. His head was beginning to throb, but the water he'd downed had calmed in his stomach and he felt better. He wasn't slurring his words, and he could think clearly. He knew he'd still pay for the evening with a headache, but thanks to Bonnie's treatments, the payment might not be as costly.

She stuck her head inside the room after a gentle knock, and entered when she saw he was submerged. "I brought you some peppermint tea. It's as good as water, and the mint will help your stomach settle even more. I also brought a baking soda rinse to freshen your mouth." The man from the desk followed her in with two buckets of hot water that he added to the tub. She waited for Adam to finish the tea and then tucked a small pillow behind his head. "I'm going to sew while you relax. But I'll keep talking now and then so you don't fall asleep."

He'd just begun to doze when her voice snuck into his consciousness, asking him again why he'd had so much to drink. "Does it make a difference?" he responded cautiously. So far her care had been aimed at making him comfortable. But this question was treading onto different ground.

"It makes no difference, but I'm wondering why you'd do that. I saw your student card from Harvard in your wallet, and you don't look like the kind of man who gets drunk regularly: at least not to this extent. So why so much tonight?"

He thought about it and couldn't find a logical answer. "It's my first cattle drive without my father along and I just let loose."

"I doubt that's it. That card said you were studying engineering, so I'm betting you have a very logical mind. Isn't engineering all about mathematics and figuring out how things work?"

"That's pretty accurate."

"So why would an engineer drink himself sick the first time he got shed of his pa? Seems to me you were probably drinking for some reason that _seemed_ logical at the time."

"Does my room rate include you analyzing my motives?" He snapped. "I got drunk, and probably won't do it again. There doesn't have to be a reason except that I wanted to."

She laughed. "The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks."

Adam sent a small wave of water out the end of the tub as he turned toward her. "You know Hamlet?"

"Just because I work here doesn't mean I'm stupid, Mr. Cartwright. I know Shakespeare because I like to read, and I love the classics."

"I don't think you're not smart." He thought about his statement and realized it didn't sound right. "I was just…surprised. Not a lot of people out here read Shakespeare."

"Well, I started out in Boston. In fact my father taught at a boys' academy."

"So how'd you end up here?"

She chuckled. "I came to 'here' to San Francisco after my father died, hoping to support myself as a maid or shopkeeper. I came 'here' to the boardroom after I found that being a hostess was far more lucrative." Her voice took on a serious edge. "I don't think of myself as a fallen dove, a harlot or any of the other nasty names people give those who do what I do. I provide a service to men who need gratification without complications…and I'm good at my job. I work here because the clientele are gentlemen, and the woman who runs the house pays me well and keeps me safe and healthy. I know I won't ever find a 'proper' husband here, but I'll have enough money soon to go wherever I want."

"I'm sorry if I you thought I was judging you," he offered sheepishly. "It's just that I've never…"

"Never used the services of a gentleman's club?" she asked with a grin, "Or never experienced 'gratification'?"

Another small wave of water exited the tub as he turned away. "I'm not sure how this conversation got headed in my direction again."

Bonnie walked over to him and laid her arms around his shoulders. "Don't worry. I knew everything about you two minutes after meeting you." She heard him snort, and continued. "I spotted your innocence the minute I saw you. Can't say what it is exactly, but I could tell. I could also tell you had money by the fine clothes and leather you were wearing, and I figured you'd been drinking to forget something…most probably a betrayal by a woman you thought would marry you."

She chuckled as she heard him sigh. "Don't even try to deny it. I read _you_ like a book, but I also read the name and address on the well-worn piece of paper in your wallet accompanying your student card and money. If it was a name and location that meant nothing to you, you'd leave it out in the open, but you keep this particular name where no can see it but you. Its location also confirmed what I figured about you being single. A wife might go into her husband's wallet to get cash for her errands, so you wouldn't leave the name of a lover in there. So it's the name of someone you hold dear, even though your feelings about her are private. And the final clue was that her address is in Boston, and that, along with seeing that your student card expired some months back, leads me to the conclusion that she has failed to remember you since you parted."

She could tell by the mild blush on his face that she'd been right about most of it. "There's something else, she continued. "All those clues made me think you decided it was time to experience this part of life."

"Bull."

"The only bull in here is coming from you." She dropped her robe to the floor and knelt by the tub as she slid her arm down his slippery chest."

His protest of her hand placement dissolved into a throaty moan as he leaned back and allowed her to continue.

"If you'll allow me, I'll help you forget what you can't change." She grabbed an oversized towel, holding it up for him to wrap around himself when he stepped from the tub, and smiled as she got a first look at him. "You are a finely built man," she whispered as she took his hand and led him to the bed. "Are you ready?"

Adam's heart, mind, and body were in a tug of war. "This doesn't seem right somehow. There's no love..."

She touched his cheek and looked into his eyes. "This isn't about love tonight. This is about need and comfort. You're not betraying anyone; it's just between you and me. You'll go your way when you leave here, and remember me with gratitude, not love." She removed the towel and had him sit on the edge of the bed while she slipped from her gown. "First lesson," she breathed into his ear, "is learning the human body. There are so many wondrous places to explore…"

Bonnie braced herself on her elbow, and looked down at Adam. "You've been silent for almost five minutes. You better say something soon or I'll call the undertaker."

He didn't have words to describe what he'd just experienced, although he was sure there were many medical and physiological terms for it. All he knew was that he didn't feel drunk anymore, and his body was settling down from the fire that had driven him. Bonnie had done things to him he'd only read about in the lewd novels that had been passed around school with the erotic passages marked for easy reading. But she'd also taken the time to teach him about what would please both of them. He smiled up at her. "I don't know what to say or how to thank you."

"I accept tips," she answered playfully…and honestly, before getting out of bed. After slipping into a robe, she sat next to him and kissed his forehead. "I'm going to leave now. You should rest soundly until morning. I'll arrange for breakfast and some headache powder to be brought up early. I imagine you'll need both." She walked to the door. "You're a gentle man, Adam Cartwright, and a quick and willing learner. It's been my pleasure."

 **Five**

 **Relearning Old Lessons**

 **(Eleven years later)**

"Let's go inside and give them a little privacy," he said to his father after Laura ran to Will.

Adam's first steps since falling two-stories from a ladder had been tentative and stiff, but they had accomplished his goal. His cousin and his ex-fiancée were leaving…together.

He'd tried to reason with Will after overhearing the conversation where his cousin and Laura had professed their love. Adam had assured him that he wasn't "being the bigger man" in letting Laura go. He had even confessed to him that his proposal had been fueled by a desire to have his own home and family, not love, and his feelings for Laura weren't strong enough to support a marriage. It had gotten even stranger when he'd told Will that he held no bad feelings toward them for falling in love, and wanted them to be happy…while Will had remained adamant that he couldn't take Laura from him.

His talk with Laura had produced agreement, but still no action. She'd conceded that their marriage would never have worked…if it ever had gotten that far, but said she'd never be able to convince Will to take her with him. After all…Will was too worried about Adam still needing her. All he'd gotten from that assessment was that Will wanted to leave Laura behind as a babysitter, perhaps to assuage his guilt in the matter.

Those conversations had prompted his decision to do something dramatic to move the pair away from being star-crossed lovers and to living happily ever after…or at least leaving. There had been only one thing he could think of that would end their guilt about his accident and repeal their misguided intention of staying apart to atone for it. He'd decided he'd have to stand and prove his self-sufficiency. As he'd considered making his "statement" he'd suspected he could make it upright without trouble; the trickier part had resided in whether he would remain that way. Taking a step wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't been able to balance himself.

As he'd sat in his "conveyance" watching Will prepare the buckboard to leave for town, and then endured his cousin's final admonishment to "keep up the exercises," accompanied by Laura's doe-eyed, chaste goodbye to her lover, he'd decided it was time to go for it.

He'd pushed up and felt the exhilaration of standing. That feat had allowed him to take a wobbly step toward Laura, and he'd made her turn to face him. Her relief in seeing him there had been palpable. _His_ relief had nearly made him jump for joy, but that would have pushed things too far, so he'd stayed earthbound. His first step had turned into another and another until he was on his way inside. He knew his father was itching to lend a hand, but he hoped he'd control his urge until the happy couple was out of sight.

Hearing the wagon rumble past the barn, he looked at Ben with a pained grin. "They're gone now, Pa, so I could really use your help." He felt the man's strong arm wrap around his back to give him the support he needed to inch his way through the door and across the room to the red chair. He groaned in agony as he lowered himself into the soft leather. "Thanks, Pa," he said softly as he tried to get comfortable.

Ben shook his head and smiled broadly. "Did you know you could walk, son?"

He chuckled. "Stand…maybe, but walking surprised me as much as you. I've felt strength returning to my legs for days, but I wasn't sure what that would mean in mobility." He sighed loudly as the tensions of the last weeks began to float away. His chuckle restarted and crescendoed to a laugh that echoed from the beams. He continued until tears ran down his cheeks, and he had to lean forward to catch his breath and relieve the cramping in his back.

Ben sat across from him on the low table, and laid a hand on Adam's knee as the young man eased himself back in the chair. "Are you all right?" He waited through a period of silence, and finally prodded, "Say something, son. I'm getting concerned that you may have reinjured yourself."

Adam pushed up straighter and smiled to relieve his father's worry. "I was just giving thanks for...so many things." He patted his father's hand. "A lot of bad decisions were solved with the steps I just took. But then, you tried to warn me I was doing things for the wrong reason."

"I did." He thought a moment and frowned. "I wonder if putting Will and Laura together so often in your absence might have pushed Laura toward him."

"Pa, if Laura and I had been right for each other, there'd have been no temptation."

"Why _did_ you propose if you weren't 'right for each other'?"

Adam blew out a long breath and made a decision. "What I'm going to tell you has to remain between us." He waited for his father's nod. "I proposed to a young woman named Melinda while I was in Boston." He watched his father's expression change from shock to humor, and asked, "Why are you grinning like that?"

"You were engaged? You said you were so grouchy because you hadn't heard from a 'friend!' I knew she was more than a friend, but didn't guess that you were engaged to her."

"I was never engaged," He answered sharply. "She said no." Adam knew he'd crossed a line of respect with his tone. "I'm sorry, Pa. I'm not comfortable talking about things like this. It was her reason for refusing that applies. We knew there would be a long separation before we could think of marriage, and she told me that the proposal came out of my attempt to order my life during a time of change and uncertainty. We agreed that we'd each use the time apart the best we could, and then plan our future later."

"Melinda sounds like a smart woman."

"She is. But I didn't learn that lesson well enough back then, and let outside pressure affect my decision to marry Laura."

"How do you mean?"

"I liked Laura, and I also knew she needed help, first with telling Peggy about her father's death, and then with the ranch. Being with her was…pleasant, but If we could have taken our time without outside interference, we would have realized we weren't a good match. It all went wrong when Laura's aunt showed up. The agenda for her trip was to get Laura married, and she manipulated everyone to accomplish _her_ goal. She tried goading me into jealousy, and when that didn't work as well as planned, she convinced Laura to move away. I knew that wasn't what Laura wanted, but I wouldn't be coerced into proposing. The deeper problem was that _Laura_ couldn't bear her aunt's pressure and wouldn't tell her what she really wanted, and went along with whatever the woman suggested. I cared enough for Laura that I could see the fear and reluctance in her eyes the day she was supposed to leave. So much happened that day, and I 'reacted' by doing the only thing I knew would protect her from what was happening. I proposed." He sighed. "I should have forced Laura to talk honestly to her aunt instead." Another sigh. "That's Laura though. She can't be honest with others because she's not honest with herself."

"You didn't love Laura at all?"

"In some ways, but we had little in common. The bigger issue was that we had different ways of handling problems, and that always put us at odds. We both knew it wouldn't work soon after our engagement, but we went on pretending—maybe hoping that it would become real if we acted like it was. I distanced myself from her by building a house that would have been a symbol of what I couldn't feel, and she realized that she wanted a different Cartwright."

Ben nodded thoughtfully while pacing to the gun cabinet and back. He looked down at his eldest, smiling like a cat hiding a finch in its mouth. "There's something more here than Laura, Will, and you falling off the roof. When I said that Melinda was smart, you replied that she 'is.' That tense tells me that you have updated information."

"I do," Adam admitted sheepishly. "I saw Melinda in Sacramento when I got stuck there and missed the engagement party. I rescued a woman who was being assaulted by a couple of drunks outside the jewelry store where I was picking out Laura's wedding ring. I recognized who it was while helping her up. We were uncomfortable at first, but that changed when we realized that we'd each written letters for months, but neither of us received any of them. There's no explanation as to where they ended up, but we accepted it as a sign that our lives were supposed to go the way they did."

"Has she married?"

"No." Adam closed his eyes as he thought back to having been with Melinda those days, and shivered. "I came home intending to honor my vow to Laura, but I knew it was over the minute I walked into her house. Something had changed in both of us. If we'd have talked honestly that day, we would have saved ourselves a lot of trouble. I fell the next day, and we continued the charade here while I recovered. At first I was too intent on walking again to care about it, but lately I was gritting my teeth whenever she'd come in the room, and I'd cringe when she spoke to me in the same cajoling tone she uses on Peggy. And even though she was playing the role of nurse here, I could tell she was as absent from me as I was from her." He laughed. "I'd decided to force an honest discussion with her today, and ask that she move back to her ranch. But providence stepped in."

"Will you contact Melinda now?"

His laugh became a groan as he readjusted himself in the chair. "First of all, those steps I took nearly did me in, and probably set my recovery back a few weeks. If I wasn't so relieved at how things turned out, I'd be howling with the pain I'm in right now. So…I'll take one step at a time."

"You don't think Melinda will marry in the meantime?"

His smile held a satisfied set. "The first thing I loved about Melinda was her honesty, and she hasn't changed. She's done so much with her life in the years we've been apart. She's an educator and an author…" His words silenced as the smile continued.

The knowing father nudged Adam's shoulder. "I can see how much you 'think' of her. What you didn't answer is whether she'll stay single."

"Oh…" He shook his head. "We took a walk our last day in Sacramento, and ended up at the jewelry store where we'd met. She pointed out an expensive bracelet that she said she'd 'loved' from the first moment she'd seen it. Then she looked at me and said she couldn't have it yet, but she knew her patience would be rewarded because the best things are always worth waiting for."

Ben smiled as he nodded. "They always are, Adam."

Their conversation ended as Joe and Hoss rushed in the front door.

Hoss pointed outside when he saw his father and Adam. "Hey, we just seen Will and Laura headin' down the road on the buckboard, and they was smoochin'! What's that all about?"

Before either of them could answer, Joe asked. "And why is Adam's wheelchair sitting out there?"

"Calm down, you two," Ben ordered. "We'll tell you about the day if you give us a chance."

Adam gave his brothers the abridged version of the story, leaving out any mention of Melinda.

"I'm glad you can walk again," Joe offered and accepted his brother's thanks. He winked at him before adding, "I'm glad for a number of reasons, but mostly because I could see you was getting' ready to blow your top over your circumstances."

"What do you mean by that?" Adam grumbled.

"Don't tell me you didn't hate getting carried up and down the steps, and you growled about the wheelchair…even though you pretended to be excited about our modifications." Joe giggled. "And I noticed those eye rolls you'd do behind Laura's back when she'd tell you to be a 'good boy' and eat your vegetables or do your exercises. Heck I wish Pa would'a seen those snarly glares you gave him behind his back when he had to help you use the porcelain facility."

"You're probably right." Adam nodded at his brother. "I tried to keep my humor when Peggy was around, but I was getting impatient with a lot of things. And I'm sure Pa knew exactly what I was doing behind his back."

"Of course I did," Ben agreed. "Not all of it was behind my back either. Yesterday you told me where I could stick my exercises." He stood and pointed at Adam. "And now I saw that grimace when you moved again, so we should cut this short so your brothers can help you upstairs to rest before dinner."

Adam yelped as he stood, and bobbled until he got his sea legs again. "What I'd like to do is use the guestroom down here until I can handle the steps. I can use a cane to get where I need to go without much help if I'm on the ground floor."

He made it to the room off the dining area, using Hoss's arm for support, but he was sweating and drawing short, ragged breaths as he eased onto the bed. His brothers continued talking and asking questions until Ben reminded them that Adam was there to rest.

"Pa," he said as Ben removed his slippers and rearranged the pillows. "I wonder if I did the right thing today."

Ben's eyes narrowed making his brows met above his nose. "From what I could see, you gave two people a chance to be happy."

He crossed his arms behind his head. "When I found out about Will and Laura, I made it clear to him that I didn't love her and wasn't going to marry her. He brushed it off by saying I was trying to save my pride by giving Laura to him."

"I suppose he was embarrassed at being caught with the woman you were still engaged to."

Adam nodded. "Even Laura admitted that she knew it would never work for us, and I told her to go with Will and be happy. But she said he wouldn't take her from _me_ in my _condition_."

Ben shrugged. "Maybe that makes some sense…"

Adam cut in. "I know Will is family, and we've found out that most of the trouble he was in came from being in the wrong place, or getting mixed up with the wrong people. But if you look more closely, you see a pattern of him making excuses and running away."

"What are you saying?"

"I began to wonder if the romance with Laura was a case of wanting something until he actually got it, and then using me as his excuse when it looked like he might actually have to do more than talk about being with her." He shook his head. "What sort of man would leave behind the woman he claimed to love, expecting that she continue tending to another man she _doesn't_ love or want to have a life with? It was only _his_ reluctance, not hers…or mine…that was keeping them apart, and it didn't make sense unless he was running away."

"Hmmm." Ben pondered Adam's statement. "So when you stood and walked, you were testing Will as much as your legs."

"That's a good way of putting it."

"He seemed happy when she went to him, didn't he?" Ben wanted to believe that his nephew had changed.

"He did. Let's hope it wasn't just being caught off-guard, and not knowing what else to do." Adam grew silent.

Ben pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over his son. "Rest now. I think what you did today will make Will and Laura face the truth. Only time will prove whether they can make it work." He patted Adam's shoulder. "You've got your own decisions to make now."

Adam turned over as he tried to get comfortable and muttered, "Ain't that the truth," as he closed his eyes and dozed off.

 **Six**

 **Eternal Love**

 _Tonight's the night_ , he thought as he worked pomade through his hair, and then used a brush to tame his wet curls into waves. "I hope I'm not rushing this," he mumbled just as his grandfather walked past his open bedroom door.

Abel stopped and peered in, smiling as he saw how his grandson was dressed. "Did you say something?"

Adam's head snapped toward the doorway. "Just talking to myself."

The older man smiled as he entered the room. "You know what I always say about talking to yourself…"

"No one thinks you're crazy until you answer yourself too."

"I think I've fallen into bad habits in my years of living alone, and can easily have entire conversations with myself. It's no wonder my friends think I'm daft." Abel winked. "You look nice. Are you taking Melinda someplace special?"

Adam turned to the mirror, giving his reflection a quick once over and found one thing missing. He grabbed the narrow black tie from the dresser top and folded it before tucking it in his pocket, deciding to put it on when Melinda was ready to leave. He was getting used to "dressing up" for his life in Boston, but he still didn't like it. There were occasions on the Ponderosa when a suit was necessary apparel, but most of the time he'd worn work clothes, leaving the shirt neck open and sleeves rolled up. He pushed aside the discomfort of the stiff white collar rubbing at the back of his neck, and turned toward Abel, remembering that his grandfather had asked a question. "I made reservations at that new restaurant overlooking the water."

"I know which one you mean, but you know me; I'd prefer a pub over a fancy eatery."

"I'd agree with you most times. The nicest part about the restaurant is its location next to the park with a path along the harbor. It's a warm spring evening so I thought we'd take a walk after dinner."

Abel grinned slyly. "Is it just a walk you'll be takin', son, or is there more to it than that?"

"I've only been back two months, but you see can right through me already." Adam laid an arm around his grandfather's shoulders. "This has to remain between us…got it? I know Sadie is your confidant as well as your housekeeper, but you can't tell her. I don't want her feeling sorry for me and patting my head if Melinda says no."

"Captain's honor," Abel vowed as he raised his hand in a salute. "I can't imagine the young lady refusing."

Adam drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "She did twelve years ago."

"Aye, but it was the right decision then. I doubt either of you could have predicted that your time apart would stretch on for so many years. Yet, you seem to have picked up where you left off without any trouble."

Adam nodded. "We did, and we've promised to be honest about those years."

Abel took a step back and eyed Adam warily. "Honesty is a good thing in theory, but be careful about sharing too much. Sometimes all truthfulness does is create hurt feelings."

"I wondered about that, but we decided we'd prefer to hear about these…people…from each other now, rather than to be blindsided by a reference to them or a situation later."

And how's that going?" Abel asked.

"Well enough," He noted the doubtful look in his grandfather's eyes, and he sputtered, "You must think I was quite the lady's man back home. There were only a couple of women I felt strongly about, and Melinda knows who they are… _and_ the circumstances under which those feelings grew." He looked towards the mirror and grabbed his brush to tame a section of hair that had begun to curl again. "And it's not like Melinda lived in a convent during those years. In fact she was the one who suggested we do this and told me first about the proposals she received."

"Had she thought seriously about marrying any of these…suitors?"

Melinda had told him that she could never think seriously about accepting because the men who'd made them had never lived up to her memories of him. But he wasn't about to share that with his grandfather. "Her reasons for telling me were as I mentioned. Her parents and sister live in Boston now, so it's likely to come up at some point with them…or at least from her mother." He grimaced. "You remember Margaret, don't you?"

Abel chuckled and nodded. "Aye; she's a beautiful and intelligent woman like her daughter, but with a razor sharp tongue and little discretion."

"I haven't seen her since I've been back, but that's as I remember her too. Melinda knows her mother will enjoy dropping the names of her prosperous and well-known beaus, just to see my reaction. It will deflate Margaret's sails if I already know about them."

"That's a good plan." A wicked smile played at the corners of his lips. "I was playing devil's advocate, son. You and Melinda are a perfect pairing, and your honesty will forestall future discomfort." Abel reached around Adam's shoulders to give him a quick hug before stepping away, "I'm glad you were able to fall in love with her again."

"Again?" Adam laughed. "I never stopped. But Melinda is a strong-willed woman, and she will have no problem refusing me if she has any doubts." The clock's hour-chime startled the two men, and made Adam grab his wallet and hat. "Our reservation is in an hour, so I better get going." He nudged Abel. "I know you're thinking that the restaurant is only a ten-minute walk from here, but you're forgetting that no matter what time I arrive next door, I will wait at least a half-hour before she's ready."

Abel led the way from Adam's room down to the parlor, and shook his grandson's hand before sending him on his way. "I know you'll be in late, but maybe when you walk past on the way home from the park, you can find a way to let me know how it went."

Adam began his walk next door and realized the short distance seemed to be stretching more each day, and he hoped his proposal would soon close that divide.

He'd arrived back in Boston two months ago, but Melinda had been away promoting a teaching system she'd developed—the same one that had brought her to Sacramento. Although he'd been planning to come East at some point, his return had been spurred by something other than wanting to marry the girl next door to his grandfather. The mess with Laura had left him careful about making decisions for the wrong reasons. But when he received news that Abel had suffered a stroke, he'd lit a fuse to his fears that had exploded any doubts. Telling his father that he was leaving…with no set plans of returning…was the hardest thing he'd ever done. But he'd been given a happy sendoff, and he'd carried his family with him on the journey east.

Abel had made good progress by the time Adam had arrived, and the presence of his grandson had seemed to be the catalyst to making a full recovery. With his grandfather on the mend, he'd been able to start his new life in Boston. He'd joined the Wadsworth engineering firm and was proving himself invaluable to the father of his college roommate. The Wadsworth family had welcomed him back into their family even though their son now lived in San Francisco. Frank hadn't changed a bit while Adam had been away, and the older man called him, "son," just as he had twelve years earlier.

While Abel's health had returned, Melinda's homecoming two weeks ago had almost given his grandson a stroke. Adam thought back to the day when she'd pulled up to her house in a buggy with another man who'd accompanied her inside. He and Abel had been in the yard and he'd seen her arrival…and that she'd taken the man's arm while laughing at something he'd said as they'd walked to her door. He'd had to swallowing the lump in his throat that had seemed to obstruct his breathing and left his head spinning as he'd tried to come to grips with what he'd seen. He thought he'd be prepared for the possibility that she'd moved on with her life, but he hadn't been.

His sadness had lifted when they'd emerged from the house minutes later, and she'd given the same man a peck on the cheek while thanking him for picking her up at the station…and sending along her best wishes for his _wife_. Melinda had turned then; had seen him in the yard, and had run to him. They'd met halfway, where they had clung to each other as they would to a raft in a stormy sea. The embers left burning in Sacramento had burst into a bonfire, and they'd spent every day together since then.

He shook his head and sent thanks heavenward as the memories receded. A year ago he'd made bad decisions that had almost cost him everything, but fate had intervened. The few hours he'd spent with Melinda in Sacramento had reminded him of what real love felt like, and he'd faced that he couldn't be happy in the direction he'd been headed. He'd gone through a physical and emotional recovery afterwards that had brought him to this moment…and he was happy.

He knew his proposal tonight would end what social standards considered a very short courtship, but he couldn't wait any longer, and he hoped they'd have an even shorter engagement. One important fact remained: nothing could move forward unless Melinda said yes.

He knocked loudly when he reached her front door, and stuck his head inside. "Anyone ready to go to dinner?" He'd seen her get home from her job with a scholastic publishing company nearly two hours before, so he hoped she wouldn't have too much left to do.

"Make yourself at home," floated down the stairs. "I'm just about done."

Adam smiled up at Melinda when she appeared at the head of the stairs. It seemed a good omen that she was wearing the same green dress she'd worn in Sacramento. Her cheeks were flushed from what he figured were her hurried preparations…and he thought she'd never looked more beautiful. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why she had a death grip on an over-stuffed shoe box.

She blew a breath upwards, trying to cool her face while noting Adam's questioning stare. Making no reference to the package, she asked, "Did you see the business section of the paper today? There's an article about what Wadsworth Engineering is doing to renovate that old dock on the St. Charles River. It mentions their latest acquisition, a bright engineer named, Adam Cartwright, who will use his experience in harbor construction to lead the project."

"Frank showed it to me as soon as I walked in the office today, and then he said I'd better live up to my press." They both laughed while she came down the steps and motioned for him to follow her to the table.

She slid her chair closer to him, still holding the box on her lap, and chewed her lip before beginning. "You recall that Aunt Lynne was getting forgetful back when you were here for school?" He nodded. "It got worse that summer before I left for college. She didn't always recognize people and would often live in a sort of made-up world. She had lucid moments when she'd know how bad it was, and since she and I were so close, she asked me to help her. I made arrangements for the bank to pay her bills and hired a woman to live with her while I was away. She became a little more lost each year I was gone, and after I graduated, I came back here and helped until she died."

Adam tipped his head as his brow rose. "I remember you telling me some of this in Sacramento. Did something come up regarding Lynne that's making you look so concerned?"

She nodded, while tears flooded from her eyes. "I solved a mystery today." She choked out a chuckle at his surprised expression, and sniffed while allowing him to dab the moisture from her cheeks with his handkerchief. "I inherited this house when she passed, but it was such a sad and busy time that I stored her things in the attic. I had plans to go through them later, but I started traveling for my book then, and never got to it. Today I remembered her having a crocheted lace shawl that would look nice with my dress, and I went to look for it."

"Did you find it?" he asked, thinking the elusive clothing item held the mystery.

"Yes, but I found this too." She set the box on the table and lifted the cover, allowing an overflow of envelopes to cascade onto the table.

Adam's eyes popped open as he fanned out the correspondence and spotted familiar handwriting. "These are the letters I sent to you!"

"The ones I sent to you are in there too!" She started to cry again as she bowed her head.

He touched her face gently, making her look at him. "Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not sure whether I'm crying because I'm mad about never getting them or out of joy because we have proof that our promises were kept."

"Do you have any idea why Lynne didn't give them to you?" He sorted through and began counting the number of envelopes from him. "I wrote every week for months, and I'd say most of them are here." He separated another pile addressed to him.

Melinda composed herself and sat up straighter as she took his hand. "I think I know how they got here, but not why she hid them." She sniffed again and borrowed his hankie. "You didn't know that I got an offer to a better school after you left, and since you didn't get my letter telling you about it, you sent your first letters to Illinois. The school must have forwarded those here because I used Aunt Lynne's as my home address. You told me that you'd sensed something was wrong and sent later letters to Lynne's address, hoping I'd get them here."

She slumped back in her chair and sighed. "The bigger mystery is why the letters I wrote to you before I left that summer didn't reach you." Her face crinkled in thought. "You know…I laid them on the table with the outgoing post, and I'm betting Lynne found them and stashed them before our housekeeper took them out. As for the rest that I sent to you from school…I saw notes on most of them saying there was no such destination, so the mail station on campus didn't post them to the territory correctly. I used this address for returns, and they came back to Lynne."

"That makes sense, but didn't it seem odd to you that you never received mail here?"

"She gave me correspondence from school and my family, so I never knew there was anything missing."

He winked. "Now for the really mysterious part; why did she hide them?"

"I've been puzzling through that, and wonder if she remembered you and suspected what they were and worried that if I was in love, I'd go off with you and leave her."

"Whew," he whistled. "That makes sense. She must have been afraid of being alone." He reached in the box again and pulled another envelope out. "The ones on the bottom are addressed to Lynne, and seem older. I wonder why they're together with ours."

"Those are _her_ love letters. Lynne was in love with a young man who was forced to marry someone else. But he and Lynne continued a torrid love affair through those letters, and by meeting in New York once a year for a few days of blissful union." She laughed at Adam's expression. "Those were Lynne's words not mine. She once told me she got the best parts of him, while his wife got the leftovers." She nodded toward the table. "One day when I was about 16, I was helping Lynne to clean her closet and I found this box. She read some to me and told me about her trysts. I was speechless. My aunt was always a progressive thinker, but what she did was shocking, considering her upbringing! What saved her from scandal was that they were discreet enough to never get caught. I packed this box in with her clothing after she died, and never looked inside because I thought I knew what it contained. I wouldn't have looked today except the string around it broke when I lifted it, and the lid went flying."

Adam had continued looking through the trove of correspondence while Melinda spoke, and gave her a "caught ya" grin. "Did you enjoy reading the ones from me?"

Her tone was wounded. "I wouldn't open them without you, and quite frankly I think they need to remain part of our past. I can't remember everything I wrote and I'm sure it's the same for you. We were young, and…" She stopped to consider why he'd asked the question. "They all looked sealed to me. Were some of them opened?"

"I think all of mine were, but none of yours." He picked out a few and showed them to her. "Some were pulled open, See?" He showed her the small tears on the flap where it had been lifted. "I think the heat and humidity in the attic resealed them." He picked out another and squeezed it to reveal a cut. "The rest of them were slit open on the bottom."

She nodded. "That's how Lynne opened things. She used a sword-shaped letter opener that was a gift from 'him.'" The impact of this information sunk in as Melinda groaned. "Lynne must have read your letters." She shivered as a sour look crossed her face.

"It's fine, honey," he vowed. "There's no harm done, and it's nice that something good came out of all my penmanship. I agree that we'll let them rest in peace. But," he teased, "I'm taking custody of mine so you can't publish them one day if you get mad at me."

Melinda's mind was still considering why her aunt had opened Adam's letters. She drew a sharp breath as her hand flew to cover her mouth. "Oh! Oh my goodness, Adam. I think I know what happened."

"Out with it!" he said as he moved his chair closer and wrapped his arm around her waist.

"In the cloudiness of mind she was experiencing, I never quite knew what was true. Some things were so far off, but I'd play along because she'd get irritated if I tried to correct her." She sighed deeply. "I just remembered her coming into my room shortly after I got home after graduation. She looked so happy that day, and she was excited to tell me about something wonderful that had happened while I'd been gone." Melinda frowned. "I was busy trying to get ready for my new job as a copy reader so I barely listened, and certainly didn't think it through."

"What did she say?"

"She told me a rambling story about how her lover had begun writing to her again after years of silence. She said he'd gone out west, and he wrote that he missed her with all his heart; that he loved her, and would return to marry her one day. Oh….," Melinda groaned. "She also said she'd written to him, and couldn't understand why her letters had come back unopened." Melinda chuckled sadly. "I knew her beau had died years before, and figured she had gone through her old letters and thought he was alive. If I'd questioned her about them, I might have realized that there was something off. But I had no desire to go through that again."

Adam nodded. "So she was probably reading my letters, and thought _she_ had written yours. It probably started out just as you said: that she took yours thinking you'd leave. Then later when my letters arrived, she entered into a new fantasy." He grinned. "It might have tipped you off if she'd mentioned names. There aren't many families with a Hoss." He kissed her cheek. "But I'm sure she adapted what I'd written to fit her delirium."

Her nod came with a teary whisper. "I'm so sorry…for her and us. Her confusion kept us apart all those years. I hope you're not too angry."

"I can't be mad. I've come to a few conclusions, and one of them is that life happens as it's meant to. In reality, we only 'lost' time, while we gained so much. It's as you said when I proposed: we both were able to experience life and we're stronger for it. And now we're together again, and have the proof of our promises on the table in front of us. It's kind of…perfect."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "You're right."

His mind was racing. His plan was to propose later in the park, but it seemed that fate was stepping in again. He pushed his chair back and dropped to his knee while taking her hand. "Speaking of things being perfect, maybe it's the perfect time to…"

She interrupted. "I think I know where this is leading, and I can't let you do it, Adam."

Her preemptive refusal stunned him. _That's it, I'm joining_ _a monastery_ , he thought sullenly as he stood, retrieved his hat from bannister post, and headed for the door. His exit stalled when he heard Melinda laugh. That was too much. He faced her again and strode to the middle of the room, intending to say something; although once he'd positioned himself, he had no idea what that would be.

Melinda came over and led him to the couch, forcing him to sit. "I don't think that went the way I'd envisioned it. I was planning to do this tonight, but I knew what happened just now provided the perfect setting for a proposal, and I had to stop you." She noticed how red his face had become and said, "You better say something, sweetheart, or I think your head might explode."

He couldn't understand how she could find humor in the situation. "Why don't you want to marry me?"

"Oh, _I want_ to marry you, but I told you twelve years ago that when the time was 'perfect,' I'd propose to you."

His hurt look softened as curiosity overrode his anger. "You did at that."

She reached for his hand as she sat next to him. "Using the words once said to me by someone I love very much…

 _Nothing in the world is single;  
All things by a law divine  
In another's being mingle-  
Why not I with thine?"_

She saw him smile, and asked, "Adam, my love, will you marry me?"

"You are the only one I want, Melinda; the one I have always needed and loved."

"I love you too, Adam." She grinned devilishly. "But I need an answer."

"Perhaps this will do…

 _And the sunlight clasps the earth  
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:  
What are all these kissings worth  
If thou kiss not me?"_

She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "That'll do," before doing as his answer prompted.

They continued to seal their engagement until the clock sounded the quarter-to chime, and Adam said they should go ahead with their dinner plans so they'd have the strength later to pick up where they'd left off.

Abel had been keeping vigil at his window, waiting to see the young couple leave for their evening out. His eyes brightened when he saw them come out the door. He noted that his grandson had his arm wrapped around Melinda in a very forward and protective manner. He also couldn't help but notice their pink cheeks; their easy laughter or the fact that Adam looked toward the window where Abel was standing, and then kissed her in a way that wasn't proper for a couple that wasn't engaged. Abel knew exactly what it meant. "Ha!" the wise old captain laughed quietly. "You knew your eagle-eyed grandpa would be keeping watch behind the curtain, didn't you, son, and you wanted me to know you popped the question early. And by Jove, I know the answer too."

He waited until they passed the house before he hurried to the kitchen, snuck up behind his housekeeper, and gave her a peck on the cheek."

"Now what'll you be doin' that for, you old sea devil?" she teased.

He twirled her around and ended with a little jig, before shouting, "The lass said yes!

 **The End…**

*It is always hard writing prequels about "Virginia City" because it didn't exist before the silver strikes in 1859. However, the Cartwright history must have started there long before, so fanfiction writers have created an early version of the place where Ben and his boys hung out and got supplies. Even canon from the scripts has Ben calling it Virginia City in, _Marie, My Love_ , when he tells Marie that he has two sons there. In my stories I like to honor history while trying to honor canon as well. Since there really wasn't much of anything where V.C. stood back in the 1840s when my story takes place, I created a small town growing because settlers heading across the Sierras decided it would make a good place to stay. There may have been a trading post, and where there was a store, people began to gather. I have Will Cass setting up his mercantile there which brought a sense of community to the area and encouraged the building of a saloon, boarding house, blacksmith shop… Cass's Crossing is entirely fictional, used as a means to give a non-existent place a location. I do refer to it as Virginia City later in the story after Adam returns from school. It still wouldn't receive that name for another 10 years. One Bonanza episode featuring Henry Comstock, shows how it got the name of Virginia City. However…it had to be called something besides "the town" in my story, so I turned to canon.

Peom by Percy Shelley.


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